chasseur
by ailleurs
Summary: if this was a fairy tale, he didn't think he could be the prince. dmhg.


**title.** chasseur

**prompt.** Asphodel (prompt from hpfanfictionprompts)

**summary. **if this was a fairy tale, he could never be the prince. –dmhg. based on the prompt asphodel

**dedicated to.** belated happy birthday alexis! gack, i've been so busy, but i hope you like this! thank you so much for being one of the first few people to follow me! i really appreciate it. i still do :) i hope you like this, seriously:)

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_chasseur_

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_"Asphodel is a key ingredient in the brewing of the Draught of the Living Death, which induces a deep sleep to the drinker, and its antidote, the Wiggenweld Potion."_

_-One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, page 58_

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_11.45pm_

Hermione's eyes drooped and she struggled to keep awake. This was her party, after all. She had been seated at the throne-like chair overlooking the whole hall as soon as she had entered the room. Couples danced to the music, the women's bright robes twirling and lulling her into a sort of trance.

Her eyes snapped to attention, however, when she caught a flash of red. She stood up, causing the music to stop and the entire hall to descend into silence. She tried to keep the flush out of her cheeks and motioned for the band to continue before walking down the stairs, one hand tightly clutching the railing, the other lifting her robes so as not to trip. He stood at the bottom of the staircase, a small smile on his face. Her face lit up and she ignored the last few steps, instead jumping into his arms. He smelled like freshly mown grass, Muggle London and something else she couldn't quite place. She buried her face in his neck and grinned before pulling back.

"Ron!" she cried, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you could make it! Where's Harry?" She craned her neck. "Is Kingsley giving him any trouble?" Ron waved her question away.

"Just some Auror business," he reassured, taking a step back. "…You look beautiful, Hermione." She laughed away the compliment.

"Well, since it's my birthday, I thought I could look pretty for once," she said, grinning and placing a hand on her waist. "What do you think?" Ron raked his eyes over her figure and smiled.

"I think those dress robes would look better on the dance floor. Shall we?"

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11.32pm

_"You have until midnight," Voldemort uttered softly. The figure nodded solemnly, eyes slightly unfocused and glazed. Voldemort regarded him with a disdainful look. "Do not fail me." _

_The figure seemed to snap out of his trance and nodded resolutely. He knelt down, stumbling as he did so._

_"Y-Yes, my Lord."_

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_11.47pm_

Ron walked with surprising grace, holding her hand in his and leading her right in the middle of the hall, ignoring the blatant stares that her guests were giving them. The whole thing was so bizarre that she could only look at their entwined hands and she realized belatedly that the band had started a much _slower _song for them to waltz to.

"Hermione," he said, rolling her name in his tongue. Her eyes snapped to meet his, and she felt his hand on her waist, the warmth from his hand seeping into her dress robes, seeping into her skin. "Hermione."

"Ron?" she asked, her voice squeaking. He gave her a smile and she found her heart racing. He proceeded to wrap his arms around her and hold her close instead of waltzing. She gasped in a breath. The other dancers seem to give them a wide berth, but she was too shocked to notice. Compared to her hug from earlier, this one seemed more intimate, _much _more intimate. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around his neck, her head slightly pressing against his chest. She could hear his pounding heart and she closed her eyes.

_Was it beating for her?_

"Happy birthday, Hermione," he said softly. She nodded her head and tightened her hold on him. "I'm sorry I forgot to give you a present."

"It doesn't matter," she said, trying to reassure him. "I know work -" he silenced the rest of her words with a kiss. Her eyes flew open before slowly fluttering shut, her hands clutching the front of his robes to further close the distance between them.

After the war, Ron had been avoiding her, and it was only until last year that he had started to talk to her again. They didn't talk about their kiss, and she had resigned herself to thinking that he didn't feel the same way, that he had only kissed her in the spur of the moment.

She pulled away and searched his eyes.

"What was that?" she finally managed to asked, breathless and trying not to get her hopes up. He grinned shakily.

"My birthday present," he whispered, closing his eyes.

When he opened them again, they were grey.

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11.26pm

_His whole body shook and he threw the vial to the ground. He could feel himself changing and he looked at the unconscious body in front of him. Voldemort watched until his transformation was complete before handing him a wand._

_"I want her_ dead_."_

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_11.56pm_

Hermione blinked as she watched his face slowly change. She tried to step back, but found that his hold on her was too tight. She silently cursed herself for leaving her wand at her table.

"Malfoy?" she asked as the features slowly became familiar. She looked around at the oblivious guests and realized that he had probably put up a glamour charm. She readied to scream but suddenly his hand wrapped around her throat and she gasped. He held out a small vial and her eyes widened.

"Don't worry, Granger," he said, sneering. "Weasley should be here soon." She clawed at his hand, but his grip remained firm.

"W-Why?" she managed to choke out. Malfoy uncorked the vial and pressed the cold glass to her lips.

"Because my end will be swift," he said flatly, before forcing the contents down her throat and pressing a hand over her nose and mouth, preventing her from spitting it out. Hermione whimpered as her body betrayed her and she swallowed the potion. The effect was immediate. She could feel her eyelids grow heavy.

"A-Asphodel," she gasped, finally locating the scent she couldn't place before. "The Draught of-"

"-The Living Death, very good," he whispered in her ear. She felt her knees give out and he wrapped his arms around her. She could have sworn he held her tenderly.

Everything went black.

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11.23pm

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_

_Ron fell down to the ground gracelessly and Draco quickly hurried to his side, forcing a small marked vial in his hand. He then stood up, just as Voldemort apparated to his side. The Dark Lord watched him as he grabbed some of the redhead's hair and dropped it into the Polyjuice Potion._

_"You know the consequences of failure, do you not, Draco?" Voldemort murmured. Draco dared a glance at Weasley, hoping against hope that he would not simply throw away the vial. It had taken him months to prepare the antidote- asphodel was not cheap. He quickly turned his gaze back at the Dark Lord._

_"Yes."_

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_12.04am_

Hermione opened her eyes to see bright blue ones staring back at her and it took her a moment to realize that it was Ron that hovered over her and sighed in relief.

"Hermione!" he said, helping her up. His robes were a bit muddy, but aside from that, it looked as if he was fine. She looked around and realized that the music had stopped and that every single one of her guests had crowded around her.

"What happened?" she asked, still disoriented.

"Malfoy got in here," Ron said tightly. "He must have taken a Polyjuice Potion and pretended to be me. I'm sorry, Hermione. This is all my fault." Hermione blinked owlishly.

"W-Where is he?" she asked, standing up as she remembered what happened just before the potion took effect.

"I called the Aurors," Ron said. "And they…Hermione, they killed him on the spot."

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12.00am

_Draco held Hermione flush against him, glad that the glamour charm he casted a few moments prior had worked. No one would notice that anything was amiss unless they really _looked_. Knowing the new rules the Ministry had placed after the war, he would be killed instantly for trying to assassinate one of the Golden Trio. _Good,_ he thought to himself. _Better than being taken back and tortured for my failure of a mission.

_As soon as he heard the slamming of the doors, he let the glamour charm disappear. He closed his eyes, and waited._

_Because that was all he could do now._

_Wait._

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**an.** _chasseur_ is French for Huntsman. Hm…this was actually supposed to be a twist on Cinderella, but then I changed my mind. You can still see some aspects of that fairy tale here, ahaha.

Alexis, I hope you like this, even if it's just a little bit! And I hope you had a fantastic birthday! To all the people who have taken the time to read this, thank you! :) Please leave a review and tell me what you think, it would absolutely make my day (: special thanks to sarah and Elizabeth for telling me what they thought!

oh yes, before I forget: I am seriously bad at summaries (there's no sugar-coating it) so if you have a better summary for this fic, or for _any_ of my fics, then please send me a message with your suggestions! it would be really, really awesome. seriously. thanks :)


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